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BALLADS, LYRICS AND SONNETS. 



Ballads, Lyrics and Sonnets 



WILLIAM FRANCIS PALMER 




CLEVELAND 

PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR 

MCMVH 



lUBRARYofCONar.ESS 
i Two Copies KecsivcC 

DEC 12 1907 



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COPY 6. 






Copyright, 1907, by Wm. F. Palmer 






This link volume is affectionately dedi- 
cated to Dr. Wilbert B. Hinsdale. Ann 
Arbor, Michigan, the inspirer of my 
youth and the friend of my manhood. 



Prefatory Note. 



TTHE Poems included in this little volume have 
* all been written within three years, and most 
of them with no idea of publication. They 
are given in about their chronological order. In 
connection with the teaching and study of the 
noble poetry of the language, their composition 
has been a pleasurable pastime, and a valued 
means of self-culture. 

It may be possible for the critic to detect 
sources of influence and he will be able even to 
recognize here and there words and phrases as 
familiar friends, for ''Quae summa sunt, ex quo 
fonte hauriam sentio;"but I trust there is enough 
individuality about the poems to justify their ex- 
istence. Many of them have alread}^ given such 
pleasure to my pupils and immediate friends that 
I have been encouraged to offer them to a wider 
circle of readers. 

I desire to acknowledge the helpful suggestions 
of my wife, and of my colleagues,' Miss Helen L. 
Storke and David P. Simpson, who have kindly 
read many of the poems in manuscript and whose 
refined taste and poetic sense have made them 
better than they otherwise would have been. 

WILLIAM FRANCIS PALMER. 

West High School, 

Cleveland, Ohio, 
Oct. 21, 1907. 



CONTENTS. 



THEN AND NOW 1 

SWEET CONTENT 6 

WE ARE BUILDERS 8 

AN IDYL 13 

AN ELEGY 16 

MEMORIAL DAY— An Ode 27 

THE LAST DAY OF SCHOOL 30 

EUADORA— A Ballad 33 

EVENING TIME 39 

LINES FOR THE ANNUAL RICHFIELD REUNION 41 

ALICE FELL 48 

LUCY MOORELAND 52 

SIR TANCRED 54 

MINGLING WATERS 58 

THE EMPTY NEST 60 

MABEL— Four Pictures 62 

SAINT BRANDAN 64 

IN SCHOOL DAYS 70 

A SERENADE 7Z 

THE COUNTRY DOCTOR 75 

PREFACE— A Note Book in English Literature . . 81 

MY BIRTHDAY 83 

THE FIRST ANNIVERSARY— A Song 87 

THE SOUTH-WIND— An Ode 88 

LEONARD AND LENORA 90 

TO AN INFANT 94 

ONCE AND FOREVER 96 

HOME FROM BATTLE 100 

THE RIVER OF TIME 102 



ROCKY RIVER 103 

THE MILLER'S DAUGHTER 104 

MY MOTHER 109 

ETHEL WENTWORTH 112 

IN MEMORY OF MRS. THEODORE H. JOHNSTON 115 

THE UNKNOW SEA 116 

VACATION DAYS— Rocky River 117 

OHIO 120 

SCHOOL DAYS 122 

THE FUNERAL OF AN OLD LADY 126 

O COOLING BREEZE— A Song 128 

A TEAR 130 

JUNIATA— A Ballad 135 

SLEEP— A Sonnet 132 

DEATH— A Sonnet 133 

THE VIOLET— A Sonnet 134 

THE FORSAKEN GARDEN— A Sonnet 140 



THEN AND NOW. 

How fugitive the tleeting years 

That fly on feathery wing ! 
As quick the man from youth appears 

As o^row the leaves in spring. 

My boyhood home, in valley green. 
Knew hills and low^ing kine ; 

And through a gladd'ning vista seen 
Its sacred portals shine. 

The lordly elms, the towering oak 
Seemed reaching close to Heaven; 

The jagged clouds that floating broke 
By foruKs unseen were driven. 

The winding hills and hedges green. 
That compassed boyhood's day. 

Restrained mine eyes from all unclean 
And shut the ill awav. 



The Bible lay an open book 

Upon the table there ; 
Its pictnred saint and Satan's look 

In memory ever Avear. 

I read of fair Jndea's hills 

AVhere shepherds watched by iiight 
I learned of Jordan's snowy rills 

That course from Hermon's height. 

I learned of days so long agone 
When Enoch walked with God ; 

When Adam watched creation's dawn 
From Eden's grassy sod. 

A mother's love, a father's care. 

Unchanged as polar star. 
Kept guard against the baneful snare 

That threatened me afar. 

The parson lived a holy life, 
His prayer was sweet to hear ; 

His pious words with good were rife, 
It seemed that God was near. 



[21 



He showed his people how to live, 

He told them how to die ; 
The kindly word, his wont to give, 

Would hire them toward the sky. 

Xot deeply versed in wisdom's lore, 

Xor art nor science knew, 
But tender hearts the neighbors bore, 

In trouble they were true. 

Their church was plain, the aisles they trod 

Were bare but clean of stain ; 
They thought the dwelling ])lace of God 

Our human hearts contain. 

But since to man's estate I've groAvn 

And wandered up and down, 
I've asked for bread but found a stone 

And met the scornful frown. 

I've seen the city's crowded way 
And watched its greedy strife; 

I've seen a brother made of clay 
Disdain his fellow's life. 

[3] 



I've studied books whose mighty scope 
Nor time nor age can bound, " 

They took from me the simple hope 
Sustaining sweet I found. 

Anon r tread with heart contrite 

The quiet aisles of prayer ; 
But Mammon casts his sickening blight 

On all the Lord deems fair. 

And now I feel toward life's decline 

I'd rather go and stay 
Among my herd of lowing kine 

And wake my boyhood's day. 

I choose those ties with humble men. 

Of generous charity. 
Who think that all their fellow-men 

Are one in destiny. 

I long to hear the songs of birds 
Whose notes gush from the heart ; 

I'm weary of the guileful words 
That pain in human mart. 

141 



I'd rather hold the simple faith, 
Aloof from creed or shrine, 

That teaches goodness of the heart 
Is surely half divine. 



[5] 



SWEET CONTENT. 

Dost thou covet coins of gold? 

They would cause thee pain and care, 
They would make thee gray and old, 

They would all thy peace impair. 

Pools for golden numbers rush, 
Envy, hate, their lives perplex; 

Friend and foe will o 'er them gush ; 
Both will cling till panic wrecks. 

Sweet content with restful slumbers, 

After days of honest toil, 
Is a boon which golden numbers 

Cannot buy but will despoil. 

With the freest bounty given 

Come our sweetest, truest pleasures; 

Rays of sunshine, air of heaven, 

Are among earth's choicest treasures. 



In the peasant's humble cottage, 
Near the bubbling spring condign, 

AVith its fare of leeks and pottage, 
Fair Hygeia rears her shrine. 

See him toiling there apace 
Singing o'er his humble lay; 

]\lark his honest cheerful face. 
AVho the lord he need obevf 



[7] 



WE ARE BUILDERS. 

Round about us grows a city, 
Wider out her bounds she pushes ; 
Clo:.er, closer grow her houses 
In a hundred spreading portions. 
Higher up her brick and mortar 
Reach toward the blue of noonday; 
Deeper in earth's sandy bosom 
Sink her rocky strong foundations. 
She is building for the future. 
She is building walls of grauite, 
She is building for our children 
With a breadth of civic vision 
Never seen in all her hist'ry. 
Into all her wid'ning harbors 
Come the craft of heavier lading. 
From her smoky mills and fact'ries 
She is sending out her products 
To be used in distant countries 

[8] 



Far across \]u' waves of ocean. 
Nobly built our sleeping fathers, 
But the wildest of their dreaming 
Never led them to believe that 
We could reach our present limits, 
Though we've just begun our growing. 

What's the part in this expansion 
That our school should aim at taking"? 
Who shall rule this mighty city 
With its souls a million nearing? 
Who shall feel its pulse wiien throbbing? 
Who shall raise its moral standards ? 
Who shall do its work all honest? 
Who shall grace and sweetly brighten 
All its pretty homes now rearing? 
Surely men of larger moulding. 
Wider vision, deeper insight, 
Keener conscience, higher morals, 
Will be needed in the future 
Than the years late by-gone wanted. 
We shall need some sweeter women, 
Broader minded, better trained. 
Who will love to rock the cradle 



[9] 



of a stronger, nobler manhood. 

J^nt not all with skill can iiuide us. 
Some must toil in gloomy narrows 
Where no light, save that within them, 
Can a beacon be in darkness. 
Here be often found the heroes 
That are never sung' by poets, 
And in hist'ry are unwritten; 
But whose names on fairer pages 
Are engraved in golden letters. 

In the past the noble sages 
Used to think the human spirit 
Was a spark of heavenly essence 
By the breath of gods enkindled. 
Then perhaps, the struggling dullard. 
With his grasp on books so feeble, 
In the world may work some wonder 
Through this fire his soul is tempered. 
He may prove the strongest helper 
Where the way of life is toilsome. 
With his courage great and dauntless 
He may lead a chosen people; 
He ma^'^ be a mighty bulwark 

; [10] 



In some firavc and awful crisis. 

The material for this biiildiii<i: 
Is where all, who will, may reach it. 
Here are gathered all the treasures 
Of the o-reat of all the ages . 
Here is art and science blended; 
Here is melody and mnsic — 
That will ronse the best emotions 
When the cnrrents of our being 
Are but slowly, feebly flowing. 
Here are draughts of inspiration 
From the lives of saintly heroes ; 
Here are notes of fearful warning 
From the base and evil minded. 
Here are moments kindly lent ns 
By the love of God in Heaven. 

In the days w^hen Greece was glorious, 
And her fame was wide extended, 
Then her master builders builded 
Temples to their gods though heathen. 
No deception would they practice 
In that work of theirs so holy. 
Of the choicest whitest marbles 



11 



Did they rear them toward the zenith, 
Nicel}^ cut their joints and friezes. 
Smoothly sculptured all their statues, 
So they rivaled with their beauty 
All the forms of men then living. 
But the shrines within these temples, 
Where no outer eye could see them, 
Of no marble were they builded ; 
Such were made of gold and iv'ry. 

Should we not with care the greater 
Seek to rear a statelier temple 
In the soul's secluded precincts? 
Seek to lay a broader basis 
In the rock of truth eternal ? 
Build it up with doors and windows 
To the good forever open ? 
Build it up with bars and shutters 
'Gainst the ill forever fastened ? 
Brild it up with Honor's mortar 
Till the dome of age is rounded? 
Brild it up to heights ethereal 
Where the prospect widens boundless? 



12J 



AN IDYL. 

Mine be the humble cottage walls 
Adjoining grove and verdant meads. 

Where past'ral scenes and woodland calls 
Display the charm of nature 's deeds. 

AVhere'er my little wicket gate 
Shall click upon the toil of day, 

May wanton care its breath abate 

And peace and love assert their sway. 

Within the limits of this bound 

Be warbling birds and humming bees. 

That soothe the ear Avith pleasing sound 
When resting 'neath my fav'rite trees. 

IVIay round my porch the ivy twine 
And lilacs shed their perfumes sweet; 

Let swallows there their nests combine 
And chirp luiscared beside my seat. 

1 131 



May earth her loamy bosom spread 
To showers of rain and sunny rays. 

And gratify a bent inbred 

To learn the wonders of their ways. 

Be close beside my roadside edg:e 

A bnbbliiiii' spriiiii' with mossy stones, 

That comes from depths of rocky ledge 
And sings in gently mui-mni-ing tones. 

Be here a beech whose shades abound 

Where toiling beasts their pleasures mark ; 

The weary pilgrim oft be fou.nd 
To grave his name u|)()n its bark. 

May he, a traveller toward the West, 
Be free to press my ready latch, 

And share, as ever welcome guest, 
A mess of pottage 'neath my thatch. 

Let stand upon my oaken shelf 

The best the great and good have thought 
A¥ho cared not for the meed of pelf 

But for the truth their souls had sought. 

[14] 



^lay here a ruddy band disport. 
The promised stay of failing years ; 

To Editli still be paid my court 

As lengthening time her face endears. 

l''i'()iii sciMies like Ihcsc a (lai'kliiig world 
Receives its only rays of bliss. 

Sweet inklings of the joys unfurled 
That wait in In'ighter lauds thau this. 



15 



AN ELEGY. 

'Neath sable skies of winter's make, 
Ere beaming morn had had its birth, 

Full oft we bade miy brother wake, 
But ne'er again woke he on earth. 

^All bleak a^d bare the level ground. 
The snow lay on the sloping hills : 

The frost and ice their mantle wound 
About the pebbly-bedded rills. 

Thou vanisht with the snow iiakes white. 

Before the buds of April broke 
Their sheaths of green to mortal sight 

On thee was laid death's sadd'ning stroke. 

In spring from out thy loos'ning mold 

The crocus and the daffodile 
Their tender faces sweet unfold 

And nod and beckon at their Avill. 

1 101 



T had not dreamed that thou could 'st die, 
So close beside nie thou hadst been ; 

O'er sunlit hills orr feet Avould fly, 
Our feathery spirits then were twin. 

In balmy sprint*', Avith rod and line, 
We'd press the river's margent grass. 

And where its bed would slight decline 
We'd angle for the s])eclded bass. 

In purple evening's sunset glow. 
Before the sound of supper bell, 

We drove our herd of cattle slow 
And side by side our shadows fell. 

Ere morning's burnished gates unbar 

Our feet would brush the sparkling dew 

And through the winding valley far 
Our calling words were heard anew. 

The rosy hue of health was thine, 

Thy youthful limbs were firm and strong 

Thou didst not show by any sign 
That life to thee would not be lono". 



171 



The flower that grows to fullest bloom 
Must droop, must see its petals fade ; 

The sweetness of its mild perfume 
Shall vanish ere the summer shade. 

Thy life was as a budding flower 
In early morning plucked away. 

It ne'er had felt a withering power, 
'TAvas lovely till its final day. 

On thee the touch of earthly years 

Its signet seal not yet had laid, 
Thy spirit was too light for tears, 

No sorrow there its trace had made. 

How often in the daylight hours 
I'd try to wake thy silent voice 

In haunts, wherefrom we culled the flowers. 
And made each other's heart rejoice! 

But lonely Echo sat bereft 

Beside her voiceless woodclad hill; 

Her heart as mine was deeply cleft, 
She irresponsive was and still. 



18] 



The huntsman's horn, the milkmaid's song, 
The lowing of the grazing kine 

That fell with mournful cadence long, 
No Nymph aroused at morn's incline. 

The little chamber, where we slept, 

And wrapped us warm and close in bed, 

'Twas there I often Avent and wept, 
And all alone my tears I shed. 

A something missing, something gone, 
My lonely days and nights deplored; 

A something from my life withdrawn 
Which passing years have not restored. 

Full often when I could not sleep 
I'd rise and to my window go 

And watch the stars their vigils keep 
As slow they moved to me below. 

I'd choose the fairest, brightest one 
That shone in all the wide expanse; 

And think that there had just begun 
That broken life its new advance. 



[19] 



And then sometimes when slumber came, 
And gentle bondage held me fast, 

An airy dream would bring thy name 

And throng my mind with mem'ries past. 

And though above my pillowed head 
Oblivion waved her languid wing, 

My pentless thoughts unbridled sped 
To wake again that joyous spring. 

Sweet notes were those e'en yester-night. 
Low wafted by the evening gale. 

They came amid my dreamy plight 
With visions of our happy dale. 

Thy thoughts Avere pure, thy tastes refined. 
Ambition stirred thy growing life ; 

It seemed that much had been combined 
To wage with ill a worthy strife. 

And when I ponder still alone 

What might have been thy life below. 
Ere yet thou'd passed thy crescent stone 

Where years a richer fruitage know. 



[20] 



I see thee stand with hel[)fiil hand, 

A blessing to thy kith and kin, 
The joy of all thy lineal band. 

The eomfort of a home within. 

T see those joys of boyhood's day 

Matnring on a higher plane. 
Where intellect and thought survey 

The wideness of a man's domain. 

Anon when in a pensive mood 

Wonld Sorrow to thy grave repair, 

And standing in that qniet rood 

With drooping head wonld ponder there 

"Is this the end, the stopping place? 

Shall virtues, to the skies allied. 
Be pris'ners of the earth's embrace 

With rocks and stones identified? 

"Cease they to speak and love and feel 
Who pass beyond death's misty veil? 

Do boundless joj^s the senses seal 

When tears these human eyelids fail? 



[21 



"Does any impnlse sway thy breast 
Of earthly trend and like mine own? 

Do these in dreams their life attest 

As whisperings from the void Unknown? 

' ' Can I believe on some fond shore 
That Hope will never Love betray, 

That broken ties shall knit once more 
In light of a diviner day? 

' ' Can all I loved, and yet must love, 

Though years divide that parting day. 

Be subject to no law above 

But perish as the common clay? 

"Long years have sped their flight, alas! 

Since sad I heard thy funeral bell 
And watched the slow procession pass 

That bore thee to this quiet cell. 

"And oft I've heard the cold damp clay 
Clash dull upon thy coffin lid, 

And half unconscious, wiped away 
The tear my better faith had chid. 



[22] 



"But still my heart is human made, 

I cannot help its earthy east. 
And half my vague conjectures laid 

In shadowy dreamland's distance vast, 

''I'd give to clasp thy vanished hand 
One moment now in fleshly form 

Or hear again, in mortal land, 

That voice long stilled beyond the storm. 

"What meaneth immortality? 

What form hath now thy after life? 
Art thou an airy spirit free 

That shun'st the din of earthly strife? 

"Or feel I still thy presence near 
As good diffused to stir my soul 

To aims, beyond a narrow sphere, 
Where vaster issues place their goal? 

"If this be so, oh happy change! 

Oh noble thing to live again! 
To have this power of backward range 

To raise the lives of struggling men! 



[23] 



"To flash the light of taper bright, 

Back through the gk)oin of human time; 

To burdens ease with mystic might 
And soothe Avith music's softest chime. 

"Thy dust may mingle with the dust 
And be but as the common clod ; 

Thy spirit, as we fondly trust, 
Has sought its fount again in God. 

"Perhaps from out this darkling bourne. 
Where joy and pain and doubt confine, 

^. friendly power to shining morn 
Conveyed this op'ning bud of mine. 

"Sweet comfort to this saddened heart. 
Doomed now to h^nely orphanage. 

To think that thou still living art 

Released from frailty's hampering cage. 

"But is this hope a vicious dream, 
A seed not planted for my need 

By some great power o'er all supreme 
To lift me Avhen my doubts impede? 



24 



''And yot life's better years Avere onrs 
The worser ones are mine alone ; 

Thy clays were free from chilling showers. 
But mine their fill of sadness own. 

"Oh brother! short thy journey here, 
No dust upon thy sandals clave; 

Xo wintry age or autumn drear 
To thee their ])urdens ever gave. 

"Into that dark and silent land. 

That girds our mortal sight around. 

Thou slipped to join that mystic band 
Whose life earth's shallows cannot bound. 

"Thou didst not see the fruitless year. 
Thy path Avas through no barren waste ; 

The wrongs, the pangs of conscience clear, 
My sister spirit ne'er abased. 

"The evil in myself matured — 

I Avould not, brother have thee know; 

I would not tell thee how immured 
In narrowing self I'm prone to grow. 



2S' 



jj^i 1 creeping' hours, the stealiDg: years 
rni \-J l^ear me on to meet my God: 
, rdim I see through falling tears 
™ p path thy tender feet have trod. 

,,p , a nature mocks at my despair, 

, \ wand 'ring moon, the silent spheres 
^„ , javen shine coldly through the air 
. /id sympathize not with my tears. 

,,,^ ^fragile bark, far from the shore, 
^ p drifted long with broken spar; 
^ ,' [mid the tumbling billows hoar 
-r-j- p sought thy gleaming- beacon star. 

^^^ llf -wildly toward a promised land 
'ry faltering arms of faith I place; 
. J hope that on its gladsome strand 
J Wet shall see thy welcome face." 



[26] 



MEMORIAL DAY. 

AN ODE. 

Tlie heroes of this humble lay 

Are sleeping on the hill; 
While breezes of a balmy day 

Their fragrance sweet distill. 
The clay that wraps their valiant mold 

Is clad with blades of green; 
The chilling damp of sleet and cold 

Ne'er breaks their dreams serene. 

By Chickamauga's stream they fonght 

And stemmed its turbid flood; 
Their leaden shot with death AA^as fraught 

And shed the traitor's blood. 
On Lookout's rock-ribbed mountain side 

They climbed above the clouds, 
Their surging lines in upward tide 

Swept back the rebel crowds. 



[271 



For them has come the evening honr 

And qniet reigns supreme ; 
The clonds have cleared their smoky lower, 

Bright glows the sinking beam. 
Xo malice in their hearts they bear. 

No passions sAvay their breasts, 
The strife that was their morning sliare. 

No more their sonl invests. 

They sleep, they rest, their names are blest 

By even knave and clown ; 
Beneath a flowery blanket prest 

They're safe from taunt or frown. 
The bugle's blast, the cannon's roar, 

The tramp of marching fee^ 
Canuot disturb their slumbers more 

Nor rend their winding sheet 

Columbia guards with jealous care 

Their silent camping grounds. 
Each year her fairest maids repair 

To deck their lowly mounds ; 



|2S| 



Her youthful sons in vigor's prime 

Will dare defend the soil, 
Their noble sires, mid battle's grime, 

Eetained with blood and toil. 

A dwindling band, with fait 'ring pace. 

The tattered ensign bear; 
Their hoary head, a crown to grace" 

The home of freedom fair. 
Their Avarfare o'er, with love held dear 

They climb life's AVestern hill: 
Soon, soon for these, well drop a tear 

And strew the fragrant dill. 



[29] 



THE LAST DAY OF SCHOOL. 

The days of leafy June are come, 

The days for close of school; 
And fast must stand the oaken door 

Till clear September cool. 

Now east and west and north and south 
Our footsteps we must wend; 

But memories sweet of days now past 
Shall often hither trend. 

For most, three fleeting months divide 

A pleasant company; 
Yet some there be, whose scliool days o'er, 

But seldom we shall see. 

In broader fields their feet shall roam 

And different people meet ; 
For some w^ill tread the shady lane 

And some the crowded street. 



[30] 



And some shall walk 'iieath snniiy skies, 

rpuii the blue hill's crest; 
And some shall go through frowning vales 

With heavy laden breast. 

The Algebra, Geometry, 

And dog-eared Virgil book 
AVill find a dusty hermitage 

In some secluded nook. 

Instead of these a nobler page, 

The book of life will ope, 
Its problems of a sterner sort 

For stouter hearts to cope. 

Dear i)upils in the plastic age 

You did our bidding meet ; 
We've watched the girlhood in you fade. 

We've marked the woman sweet. 

We've seen the manhood in your frame 

The weakly boy displace ; 
We've listened to your changing voice 

From piping thin to bass. 



[31] 



And now we open wide the door, 

The thin partition wall. 
That separates the year of dreams 

Prom Duty's waiting call. 

Be kindly toward the orphan lone. 

Compassion feel for need ; 
But draw your ready truncheon strono- 

And give to ill its meed. 

Then when the by-paths turn again 
And homeward ye are bound, 

Some precious sheaves you'll surely bear 
To upper heavenly ground. 



[32] 



EUADORA. 

A BALLAD. 

Come, Serena, cease thy toiling. 

Sit beside me 'neath the tree. 
Listen to a truthful story 

As I tell it plain to tliee. 

On the shore of angry Erie. 

In the days not long ago. 
Dwelt a seaman aged and hoary 

And his step was getting slow. 

With him dwelt an only daughter, 
Euadora was her name ; 

She was tall and fair and lovely 
And her beauty wide of fame. 

She alone was his companion 
Since her mother passed away, 

All his wants on her depended 
In the rears of his decav. 



133: 



Long he'd been a dauntless fisher 
And his nets he'd spread at sea; 

Now he loved to watch the billows 
With his daughter by his knee. 

In the little neighboring hamlet 
Was a church but modest sized 

Where attended oft the seaman 

With the daughter whom he prized. 

Firm believer was this seaman 
In the power of heavenly love ; 

Oft to God a prayer he'd muttered 
When the billows dashed above. 

On a Sunday in mid-summer, 

Wlien the skies Avere bright and clear, 
There repaired a mighty concourse 

Of a heathen land to hear. 

Euadora with her father 

Went among the gathering throng; 
Went to hear the one returning 

Tell about his sojourn long. 

[34] 



Loud he preached and much exhorted 
Aud their deep emotions moved; 

Telling- how the harvest whitened 
But how few the laborers proved. 

Then he showed some foolish idols 

Which they'd fashioned with their hands. 

Saying these could never save them 
From the fate of burning brands. 

In her conscience deep was smitten 

Euadora fair and tall ; 
For it seemed it was her duty 

To obey this plaintive call. 

So she left her aged father 

AVhen his step was getting slow; 

Sailed away to distant India 

Where the luscious mangoes grow. 

There she labored hard and earnest 

To uplift the darkened race; 
From their idols sought to wean them 

By the tale of wondrous grace. 



35" 



While she labored there in India 
Where the Brahmaputra flows. 

There was one who long had loved her 
And his heart was fnll of woes. 

He was tall and straight and handsome 

xViid of noble mein was he; 
Cft in childhood they had wandered 

Hand in hand beside the sea. 

NoAV this youth so tall and winsome 
With a modest blushing face, 

AVeDt to see the aged seaman 

With the slow and trembling pace. 

Long, he said, he'd loved his daughter 
In the years since passed away ; 

i\Iight he as a bride now have her 
If he'd cross the ocean's sway.' 

Him the aged seaman answered 
As the tears he tried to hide: 

"You may have my Enadora 
If you bring her hire a bride." 



1 36] 



'I'Ikmi the youth so tall and winsome 
Sped across the oeean wide; 

Sped away to distant India 
l^.y the Brahmaputra's tide. 

Lon<i' he pleaded with the maiden. 

In that far and heathen land ; 
Told her how he long' had loved her 

Ere she left her native strand. 

Would she leave the darkened heathen. 

With their worship full content; 
(io a hride to dAvell by Erie 

Near her father old and bent? 

Then the lovely Euadora 

Pondered long- upon the thought. 
Struggling vain against the passion 

Which her loving heart besought. 

And she answered: "I will leave them. 

Leave these darkened heathen bands. 
Leave them as the Lord designed them 

By the Brahmaputra's sands." 



[37] 



ill a white and modest cottage, 
On old Erie's sontheru shore , 

There are scenes of constant gladness 
Thonffh the billows often roar. 



't^' 



Yesternight I saw the seaman, 
And a happy man was he, 

Sitting there by Enadora 

With her son npon his knee. 



138] 



EVENING TIME. 

The sun while resting on the hills 

Emits a mellow ray; 
The lakelet wears a deeper blue 

Than that it wore by day. 
'Neath gentle evening's dusky veil 

The youth pricks on his way 
Toward the ready welcome gate 

That opens for his stay. 

When evening hangs her flickering lamps 

In purest skies of blue, 
And notes that rang in sunny hours 

Are hushed \7ith soft adieu; 
The anxious maid in neat attire 

Sits 'neath the door-yard yew 
And barkens for the clattering feet 

That bear her lover true. 



[39] 



'i'lie birds tliat ilew apart by d;iy 

At evening seek the nest; 
And clouds that hung in somber hue 

(J row blushing from the west. 
The weary ehiki, by plaj^ undone, 

Hugs close its mother's breast 
And begs to hear the lullabies 

That close its eyes for rest. 

The varying needs of toil and care 

At morning far divide ; 
But genial evening brings all l)ack 

From roamings far and wide. 
The sweetest memories cluster round 

The evening fireside. 
And dearest pledges ever made 

AVere spoke at eventide. 

How fair the view of folding-star 

At quiet evening time ! 
HoAv soft the tints of lingering day 

xVt curfew 's swelling chime ! 
Mine be the hour to sink to rest. 

In age or manly prime. 
Just when the beams of setting sun 

(ii'ow dim at evening time. 

f40] 



LINKS FOR TIIK ANXIAL KK'lllvlKLJ) 
REUNION, 1905. 

Sweet (lay is this that brings a.uaiii 

Our ehildh()(Kl recollection 
And sends away our toil and care 

In uloomy sad dejection. 

AVe come from farm and shoj) and store, 

A widely scattered band. 
To oaze ui)()n oni' tree-capped hills, 

The o-reenest of the land. 

No bonghs more oracefnl in the world 

P^re nodded in their mirth 
Than those which wave in ])nrest air 

Abont onr pUice of birth. 

No clearer streamlets ever flowed. 

O'er beds with pebbles stroAvn. 
Than those which course our native hills 

With maples overarown. 



[41 



How dear to us these hills and dales 
Where boyhood's years were spent! 

How young feel we our beating hearts 
With sweet emotions pent! 

The little cottage standing yet, 

The cradle of our birth, 
Seems now the scene of greatest bliss 

That Ave have known on earth. 

Today within those cottage walls 
No old-time inmates dwell; 

But Memory's brood still nestles there 
In that once happy dell. 

Those were the days ere family ties 
Were snapped or torn asunder ; 

Before we heard the storm and stress 
Of life's continual thunder. 

'Twas here our op'ning eyes beheld 

The light of shining sun; 
'Tis here we'll rest in lasting peace 

When life and toil are done. 

[421 



This morn I sauntered by the brook 

Where I was used to play, 
And watch my busy water wheels 

ThroAV out the rainbow spray. 

'Twas flowing still with current free, 

Meandering on its way; 
The minnows near its gravelly bed 

Sent back the light of day. 

No time nor age that streamlet feels 

As babbling on it goes; 
It smiles and frowns beneath the sky 

Nor friend nor stranger knows. 

Ah ! Nearly forty years have sped, 

Upon their winged flight, 
Since we were barefoot boys at school 

And tried to learn to write. 

And we who wore the raven locks 
Are getting crowns of white; 

The e^^es that once were bright and keen, 
Have now a dimmer sight. 



[431 



Rise, ^Memory clear, of hallowed times 
And siii<i' tlieit* joyous pi-aise! 

Hi'iiiti- back a«iaiii to fading- view 
Those scenes of other days. 

Repaint in vivid colors bright 
The school house made of brick. 

Where Willie Oreen we oft beguiled 
With many a clever trick. 

Shov,- r.s again the white wood seats 
]>>' jack-knife oft dissected: 

The master's portrait on the board 
Ilis angi'y look inspected. 

T.et\s hear the shouts of children wild 

Ujion the grassy yard — 
Our voices that long since were stilled 

Hy life's experience hard. 

Rebuild again the parish church 

By raging fire consumed 
And show the pastor's reverend form 

On yonder hill entombed. 

144] 



For three and twenty years he ])rayecl 

For erring- sinners' aid: 
His life was lived Avithout a stain 

His faith ahove was staid. 

When tronhle, sickness, or dismay 

His little tlock distressed 
'I'hroiiiih nuid and snow, or rain or shine. 

His joiu'ney fast he j)ressed. 

By beds of pain he often stood. 

Yv^hen souls from clay depart : 
And pointing- to a brighter world 

Sweet peace he world impart. 

Among the first his eyes to ga.^^e 

T'jjon our infant rest: 
He marked the likeness to our sire. 

AVith prayer our mother blest. 

Xo thought had he for gain or pelf. 

He had no earthly aim : 
His task to eheei" the broken heart. 

The wanderer to i-eclaim. 



1 45 I 



The arm that blew the village forge 
AVhen we were boys at school, 

And raised aloft the ponderous sledge, 
Has dropped its heavy tool. 

His anvil rings by other hands, 

By other boys is heard ; 
A granite shaft reared o'er the spot 

Shows where he was interred. 

So we today as strangers come 

Unto our native seat; 
A race of aliens here have we 

And few we knew we meet. 

And where are they we miss today? 

Oh, they have gone away! 
We read their dates npon the stone 

And know they're gone away. 

If we should tell them by their names- 
Those on the farther shore — 

Outnumbered would the living be 
By several hundred more. 

[46] 



On yonder Eastern hill they sleep 
Where soft "\ve laid them down; 

Or where the beams of setting sun 
Bright flush the Western town. 

The violets in their season bloom 

Above their lowly beds; 
The chestnut in the August wind 

Its feathery blossom sheds. 

Reunion ! 'Tis an idle word ; 

We cannot have it here. 
This is a darkling-, dying vale 

Where falls the trickling tear. 

AYe can but trust the larger hope 
By prophets long foretold. 

That in a brighter, better clime 
Reunions true we'll hold. 



[471 



ALICE FELL. 

Nine srmiiiers knew sweet Alice Fell — 

All ()v]y eliiJd was she; 
A»i(I dwell iiiii' on m lonely road 

Was kno^^'n by fe^v bnt ine. 

No hniiian ]^laYiiiates Alice had, 

She dwelt so far away ; 
But timid rabbits loved her voice 

And near her oft would play. 

The herds of barnyard animals 

Were creatures of her will ; 
They'd let her smooth their o'lossy sides 

With hand that meant no ill. 

Kind nature in a j^eiieroiis mood 
Had richly dowered her head, 

A thousand clustei'ini>- ring-lets there 
Their lustrous beantv shed. 



[48] 



She grew like some wild desert flower 

Upon a lonely moor; 
Her beauty, orace and loveliness 

Would suit an angel pure. 

One eve in sultry August time 

She crossed the river Blee 
To spend the night at Uncle John's 

The evening queen to be. 

And many Avere the gathered guests 
That saw her play the queen; 

And through her wavy ringlets fair 
They twined the myrtle green. 

But mid those festive .joys that night 

An aAvfnl storm arose: 
Intensest blackness veiled the stars 

And ow^ls their coverts chose. 

It seemed that oceans from the sky 

Descended in an hour ; 
And wildly rushed the swelling floods 

In madness to devour. 

[49] 



One thought alone was Alice Fell's — 

Were parents safe at home? 
In spite of darkness of the night, 

In spite of river's foam, 

This slender child nine summers old 
Her steps swift homeward bent; 

Not fleeter bounds the mountain roe 
Pursued by hounds intent. 

But when the sun at morning rose, 

Above the fleeing cloud, 
A bridgeless river Blee was seen 

With torrent roaring loud. 

Her footprints all so wide apart 

Her uncle followed plain ; 
He traced them to the buttressed bank 

Where further trace was vain. 

Though thirty years have come and gone 
Since Alice played the queen. 

She dwells a lovely memory there 
Of something not terrene. 



[50] 



The cruel Blee still onward rolls, 
But casts a sadd 'ning spell ; 

Its heavy current running chants 
The dirge of Alice Fell. 



51 



LUCY MORELAND. 



The moon in her silent splendor 
Was guiding: the steeds of night 

When up from the balmy southland 
Was wafted a vision bright. 

A vision it was of Lucy 

That came to my slumb'ring soul. 
Of beautiful Lucy Mooreland 

Who back from the shadows stole. 

She stayed but a tieeting moment 
Then vanished away in air — 

She vanished away and left me 
Alone to my worldly care. 

Away in the sunny southland 

Two children were wont to play, 

The beautiful Lucy Mooreland 
And I, little Philip Gray. 

[52] 



We loved with a love most tender 
It seemed from the day of birth ; 

Our joy was the joy of heaven. 
Forbidden to be on earth. 

And this was the reason, I know, 
A blast from the eastern sea 

Bk^w dank on my tender blossom 
And reft her away from me. 

T^ut oft in my quiet slumbers 

She steals from the realm of shades 
And comes as the dew in softness 

That falls on the tiny blades. 

No power with the "'uardian angels 
Xo fiend with his Stygian band, 

Can stay the swift flights of Lucy 
AVho speeds from the spirit land. 



[531 



SIR TANCRED. 

Sir Tancred was a cavalier 

In Old Virginia 's day ; 
He came from rugged Scotia drear 

Hard by the Firth of Tay. 

Of years he had a score and three 
His locks were black as coal; 

His eye, so frank and clear to see, 
Bespoke a generous soul. 

He had a noble ancestry 

Of earls and dukes and peers, 

A high and boasted pedigree 
Which ran for many years. 

A broad and rolling acreage 
Coiu'sed by Potomac 's flood, 

A thousand slaves as heritage, 
All his by right of blood. 



541 



TTis shoulders decked with epaulets 

Shone as the Afric suns, 
They caught the eye of sweet brunettes 

Where slow Potomac runs. 

All maids in Old Virginia's day 
Would gladly been his bride; 

But heedlessly he turned away, 
Their blandishments denied. 

Ere yet he'd reached his seventh year 

His father chose his bride — 
The daughter of a noble peer 

With riches laid aside. 

But far across the ocean wild, 

Beside the Firth of Tay, 
There dwelt a blonde — a peasant child— 

Whose name was Tillie Gray. 

Her eyes were blue as heaven above 

And g:olden was her hair ; 
To her Sir Tancred vowed his love 

In childhood's mornino" fair. 



[55] 



So now across the heaving main 
Sir Tanered sailed his way, 

His vessel bore no lordly train 
From ont the Ches'peake bay. 

Alone went forth the gallant knight 

Upon the rolling main, 
Nor ire of sire conld him affright 

Nor lordly blood enchain. 

He went to claim his chosen bride, 

Plis jonrney well begun; 
No more should ocean far divide 

Two hearts that beat as one. 

His ship, her pennons flaunting gay, 
Bore toward her destined goal ; 

But at the entrance of the Tay 
She struck a rocky shoal. 

A dismal shroud of heavy mist 
Hung dense o'er Albion's isle; 

The watchful pilot he had missed 
The channel half a mile. 

In through her prow the jagged reef 
An ugly hole had bored 

[561 



And life for all on board was brief, 
For cruel waters poured. 

On this side of Atlantic's stream 

Long sat a sonless sire ; 
The subject of his fondest dream 

Slept in the ocean's mire. 

But from the sea 's. wild eastern shore 
He brought sweet Tillie Gray, 

Who just a little while before 
ITer parents laid away. 

She was his min 'string angel sweet 

In gloomy hours of ill. 
Not readier were a daughter's feet 

His every want to still. 

And ere Sir Tancred's sire had died 

On slow Potomac's shore, 
His all to that intended bride 

He willed forevermore. 

Tu fields of cotton bloss'ming fair, 
'Xeath darkened labor's sway, 

The sweetest songs that float the air 
Are those of Tillie Gray. 

[57] 



MINGLING WATERS. 

I was standing^ near the sunset 

Of a mild October day 
Where a brook with purling waters 

Joined the Rhine's majestic sway. 

Long' had been its fretful journey 
In its narrow winding bed; 

It was weary of its pebbles. 
Weary of the life it led. 

It had longed for greater freedom. 

Longed to mirror on its breast 
All the cloudlets sailing o'er it 

With its waters more at rest. 

And I noticed as I watched it, 
In a kind of dreamy state, 

How its current ceased to ripple, 
How it died away bv fate. 



581 



Vet tlie mighty rolling river 

Did not change its wonted course; 

On it tlowed and flows forever, 
Farther, farther from its source. 

And I said, '^0 human spirit! 

Welling from thy fount divine, 
Thou hast streamed for countless ages. 

Thou art greater than the Ehine. 

"Let my frail and weak existence 
Mingle with thy current wide ; 

I Avould die as do these ripples 
On thy pure and argent tide." 



[59] 



THE EMPTY NEST. 

'TAvas late in November 

And chilly the breeze; 
The leaves had all fallen 

A down from the trees. 
A nest in a lilac 

All desolate swung 
Where wrens in the summer 

Had cheeped to their young. 

A mother at evening 

Sat watching the nest; 
But only a mem'ry 

Arose in her breast, 
A mem'ry more precious 

Than jasper or gold 
Of dear little cherubs 

That slipped from her fold. 

160] 



They went in the morning, 

Unfaded by care, 
They went in their pureness, 

Ere sin could ensnare. 
Like buds with their sweetness 

All folded within 
They waited to blossom 

Till Heaven should begin. 



61 



MABEL. 

FOUR FICTUr^ES 

When blushes of morning 

Bedecked her sweet face, 
'Twas then that I met her, 

Beginning life's race. 
Mid blossoms of lilies 

That bloomed on her way 
She sang with a heart that 

Was lighter than they. 

I saw her soft beauty 

Again at eighteen 
When girlhood was fading 

And stately her mein. 
Her rich auburn tresses 

Were twined in a braid 
The hopes of fond lovers 

Were fast an her staid. 

[62] 



Years after I saw her 

As mother held dear; 
The comfort of husband, 

In sorrow his cheer. 
Her heart was more tender, 

More steadfast her will ; 
The sweetness of May-time 

She kept Avith her still. 

Though now she is eighty 

And wrinkled with care, 
Her eye like the twilight 

Is lustrous and fair. 
She sits by the river. 

Is holding The Book, 
AVith trust in her Savior 

And hope in her look. 



[63] 



SAINT BKANDAN. 

In the city of Modena, 

Many many years ago, 
Dwelt a monk by name St. Brandan 

And his hair was white as snow. 

In that quiet, gloomy cloister 
He had stayed for thirty years, 

Begging of the Lord for mercy. 
Seeking pardon with his tears. 

Up to heaven his prayers ascended 
Morning, noon, and dewy night ; 

And his long and tapering fingers 
Sought to count his beads aright. 

'Gainst his weary soul the billows 
Of his sins swept evermore; 

And he seemed a shipwrecked sailor 
Destined ne'er to reach the shore. 

[64] 



Oh the depth of bitter anguish 
That this human sonl distressed ! 

Oh how piteous were his pleading's 
To the ear of Heaven addressed ! 

On the monldering: walls about him 

Crept the ivy unrestrained ; 
And without a land of beauty 

Which his sunken eyes disdained. 

Thirty years had plowed their furrows 

On his pale and wasted face. 
When to him the angel Pity 

Glided from the Throne of Grace : 

''Wouldst thou know, O poor St. Brandan. 

What the Lord desires of thee? 
Xeedless all thy cries for mercy. 

Since His mercy's full and free. 

''In the dark and tangled mazes 
Of thine own weak human heart 

Thou dost form a monstrous being 
And thy passions all impart. 



[65] 



"Him thou thronest in the heavens. 
Ruling with His rod of hate; 

Silken priests His wrath averting 
From the poor's enfamished state. 

"Dumb the lips of holy Pythia 
Which Apollo long inspired; 

Leveled now those pagan Altars, 
Which the flowing blood required. 

"Long the oaks that stand majestic 

On Dodona's rugged brows 
Have forgot that mystic sentence 

Which replied to human vows. 

"Thus it is that down the ages, 

Where the stream of progress flows. 

Human thought of God has altered 
As its creed the mind outgrows. 

"Art thou sure thy gloomy fancies 
Are not fleeting quite as theyl 

Will they not like ancient Themis 
Or Apollo have their day ? 



66] 



"High above thy throned picturing 
Love hath made her fountain cell. 

liaise thy faith to light and freedom 
Toward her gleaming' citadel. 

"Can the great Eternal Goodness 
Take delight in human pain ? 

Can a narroAV, gloomy cloister 

]\ratch the Avideness of His reign ? 

"Thou canst know His love and mercy 
From the soaring sparrow's flight; 

Thou canst see His glory written 
In the spangled stars of night. 

"Thou canst see His ix)wer and greatness 
In the swirling worlds of space; 

Thou canst know His sense of beauty 
Froiu the lily's spotless face. 

"He would have no faue or cloister 
Which proclaims the builder's fame; 

In the hearts of all His children 
He would see love's taper flame. 



67] 



''He would have no costly temple 
Mid the hovels of the poor ; 

Of the souls by sin encumbered 
He requires no silver pure. 

' ' What He meant for human comfort 
Thou dost make a burden sore ; 

All the gold the world possesses 
Cannot make His riches more. 

''What cares He for sounding timbrels 
And the organ's pealing strains? 

His the chants of angel seraphs 
Moving in their choric trains. 

"What cares He for gilded ceilings 
Which your paintings rich adorn? 

His the glories of the sunset 
And the hues of summer morn. 

"What cares He for smoke of incense 
Clouding all thy somber day? 

His the clouds with silver lining 
And the haze of milky- way. 

[68] 



"Was it meant that all the beauty 
And the grandeur of the skies 

Could to souls but work perdition 
If they view them with their eyes 

"Then within thy dingy cloister 

Tarry not another day, 
I have come from highest heaven 

To reveal this better way. 

''Leave thy ghastly, dreadful relics 
Which bespeak a Savior dead; 

Seek His spirit still that liveth, 
To the deed of kindness wed. 

"Not a plea for light or guidance 
Was to Him e 'er raised in vain ; 

But thy pompous creed and ritual 
Only please the human brain. 

"There alone the church eternal. 
There alone religion's core, 

Where a helping hand extendeth 
To the Lazarus at thy door." 

[69] 



IN SCHOOL DAYS. 



My memory back o'er fading days 

E 'er wings a readier flight ; 
With passing years more fond it stays 

Mid scenes of early sight. 

Life's long and length 'ning vista still. 

At gleaming farther end. 
Reveals the school-house on tlu^ iiill 

Those beeches yet befriend. 

Within the shade their branches made. 

At noontide's sultry heat. 
The troops of red-cheeked children ])layed, 

Their happiness complete. 

Olivia lit my passion's spark, 

Her face my heart enslaved; 
High up the beech with smoothest bark 

Her name I deep engraved. 



[70] 



I trudged with her at close of school 

Across the fallow lea; 
.Afid glimmering" shades of evening cool 

She dearer grew to me. 

ller books I bore a precious mile 

Along the homew^ard way; 
And vivid still the kindly smile 

That told the close of day. 

Keluctant was the leave we took 

xVt parting of the ways, 
And followed each with fondest look 

Along the leveled rays. 

One eve my boyish fancy broke, 

I could not hold it down ; 
To her the tender word I spoke, 

It met a dainty frowm. 

How blest the flow of happy love 
Whose fount those journeys home, 

Still warming like the sun above 
On land or ocean's foam! 

[71] 



More blessed by me the school-house gray 

Than all the world beside, 
It made my life one happy day, 

It gave to me my bride. 



[72] 



A SERENADE. 



My dream was of thee, sweet Love, 

In the early hours of night, 
^ly slumbering soul was filled 

With the joy of strange delight. 

My dream was so restful. Love, 
That I fain would slept till morn, 

^ly heart that was vexed by day 
Of its burdens then was shorn. 

My head it was leaning, Love, 
On th}^ bosom soft and white; 

Thine eyes they were beaming down, 
Like the stars of doAvy night. 

I came up the valley. Love, 

When the winds were breathing low; 
I wait for thy chamber light 

In the sinking moonbeam's glow. 

[73] 



AOy thoughts are still true, sweet Love, 

As I pledged iieath the hawthorn tree, 
Rifeturn to thy pillow soft 
/ And there sweetly dream of me. 



[74] 



THE COrXTKY DOCTOR. 

'Twas night on the moor of Gletiearuie 
And black was the face of the skj^; 

The elements raved and were wanton 
And l)linding the snow to the eye; 

One traveller alone on the highway 
The tempest had dared to defy. 

AAvay on the desolate highlands. 

Across the wild stretches of moor, 
This traveller was bound for a cottage 

Where languished the child of the poor 
The winter was hard in Glencarnie. 

His labor was free he was sure. 

Hut spite of the snow that was drifting 
And cold that was freezing the breath. 

The Doctor, an angel of mercy. 
Sped on to his battle with death. 

Sped on like a knight in his armor 
O'er fens that were frozen beneath. 



He entered the poor lowly cottage 
Whose walls were denuded and bare; 

And then there arose from the mother 
A wail of the deepest despair — 

"Oh Doctor! yon saved Myrtle Angus, 
Oh save our dear Mary so fair!" 



' ' Her fever burns hot like a furnace, 
Her pulse is as full as the sea ; 

But cease your long Availing, dear Avoman, 
One chance in a thousand has she. 

Go close your red eyelids so weary 

And leave your sick darling Avith me." 



All night by the bed of lone Mary 
He fought like a hero to save; 

He fought the fell demon of fever 
In Mary half sunk in the grave ; 

With AA^ater that gushed from the springlet 
i\Iost tender her form he Avould lave. 



[76] 



And just as the morning was breaking 
A slumber, both natural and sweet. 

Stole softly upon the pale sleeper 
And told of the fever's defeat. 

Her breath was as odors of perfume 
That steal from a rose's retreat. 



And then ere he took his departure 
He called the fond mother to see 

What change had been wrought in her dar- 
ling, 
Who slept like a calm on the sea; 

Who slept like the sea in the moonlight 
AAHien zephyrs of eventide flee. 



The day that was dawning was Christmas, 
The dearest that happened in years ; 

For now in the cot of Glencarnie 
Their joy was the limit of tears. 

Their gift was the presence of Mary, 
The end of their anguish and fears. 



[771 



The day that next followed was Suiidav 
The day of thanksgiving and prayer, 

And up to the church of the parish. 
The streams of the people repair. 

To ask the dear Lord for His mercy 
And lielp foi* theij- l)n!'d('iis to beai'. 



The minister thanked Him for ]\Iary. 

AVho close to the border had lain ; 
For him, their beloved physician. 

Who banished her fever ard pain. 
Whose visits bronght healing in sickness. 

Who comfoi'ts bestov/ed like the rain. 



The hand of the Doctor was nughty. 

His touch was as soft as the dew; 
His voice v/as a tonic to weakness 

Most magic witli ho}ie to endue; 
His skill Vv'as long tried in Glencarnie 

More dear to the people he grew. 



178] 



He'd held the pale hands of their dying, 
When shadows were thick 'ning their gloom 

He'd felt the deep pangs of their sorrow 
When flowerets were losing their bloom 

He'd been to them closer than any 

When hovered the shades of the tomb. 



One day mid the snows of December 
The Doctor, grown aged and ill. 

Grown old with the burdens he'd carried. 
Was borne to his rest on the hill. 

To sleep till the Great Resurrection 

With patients whose slumbers were still. 



No fnneral like that in Glencarnie 
Had ever been witnessed before ; 

Xo eye in the parish nnmoistened 
When him to his slumber they bore. 

They buried him there 'neath the wallow 
Whose branches still weep and deplore. 



\79\ 



But up to the place they call Heaven, 

Whose gates, we are told, are pure white, 

I know his kind spirit ascended 
To dwell as an angel of light. 

To live the strange life not incarnate 
In realms where there cometh no night. 



[80] 



PREFACE. 

A NOTE BOOK IN ENGLISH LITERA TURE. 

Xo dress of costh'" binding rare 

Adorns this form of mine ; 
But here upon my pages fair 

These names immortal shine. 

The choicest spirits ever brought. 

Upon this world of ours. 
Have here revealed their noblest thought, 

Have strown. their sweetest flowers. 

A preciors legacy I hold — 

Old Albion's chief est fame. 
For greater than her wealth of gold 

Is Shakesi)eare's mighty name. 

[81] 



No mood that haunts the human heart, 

In shifting worlds of time, 
But here can find its counterpart 

Expressed in deathless rhyme. 

These need no tribute to their worth, 

No artless flower to fade ; 
They left below a brighter earth 

And Heaven richer made. 

Dear friends, sweet friends, the gliding year 

Speeds down his swift incline. 
For memories sweet we drop a tear 

No more our faults repine. 



f82] 



MV lURTHDAY. 

Beneath October's rustling leaves 

]\ry latest year lies dead; 
Mid falling' beauty of the trees 

Its joys and trials are fled. 

No more are mine the happy hours 
Whose sands have ebbed away. 

Like tints upon the garden flowers 
They could not longer stay. 

1 would not count new whitened hairs. 

Xor deep'ning wrinkles trace, 
1 only wish the baneful tares 

Would hide their ugly face. 

J mourn not like the sei]seless trees. 

Bereft of verdure green ; 
Mine eye with pleasure rather sees 

The truth before unseen. 



1 83 1 



For much that wore a gilded hue. 

To youth's aspiring eye, 
Has to the more experienced view 

But proved a hollow lie. 

The gold of life I've learned to seek 

In still sequestered ways; 
Its home is not the mountain peak 

Though flushed by morning rays. 

The envious years no charm can take 
From Nature's I'ich bequest; 

In beauty still her mornings break 
As fair her radiant west. 

The stars that sparkle in the night, 

And stud the heavens blue, 
Ne'er beamed with rays of softer light 

When vines in Eden grew. 

Trne love is lasting as the sun, 

As w^arming as its ray; 
And that in youth which made us one 

Hath 3^et its joyous May. 

[84] 



A happy fireside is mine, 
Kind voices speak my name, 

And love that mirrors the divine 
This eve emits its flame. 

The care o'er infant's troubled rest, 
That banished slumber sweet, 

Is yielding noble interest 

In plump and rounded wheat. 

And still though dimmer grows the sight 

More steadfast be my will, 
And brighter shine the spirit's light 

Upon life's western hill. 

As fruits hang softening on the tree 
'Neath bright October's sky. 

So may my heart more mellow be, 
As fast the seasons fly. 

While feeling keenly still the pains 
The fleeting years have brought, 

Dear memories twine their golden chains 
With, sweetest comfort fraught. 



[85] 



Shall he, Avho sailed the stormy mere 
Undecked by emerald palms, 

Be faint at heart Avhile drawing near 
The qniet zone of calms" 

Let softly dip my shallop oar 

And steady ride the spar, 
When pulling' near the peaceful shore 

Behind the harbor bar. 



[86] 



THE FIRST ANNIVERSARY. 

A SONG. 

woof of Summer's weaving 
Bright mottled in the sky! 

Your golden tints now leaving 
Are dear to Memory's eye. 

Oh spreading boughs of elm tree 
That east your deepening shade! 

One year ago beneath ye 
Was my betrothal made. 

moonlight soft and tender 

To 3^outhful love entice! 
You shone with silent splendor 

Upon our paradise. 

Oh starlight sheen of silver 
That fills the heavenly space ! 

Your slanting rays fell on her 
And lit a seraph face. 

O heart with mine now beating 
A full and rounded j^ear! 

You heard my low entreating; 
Abide foi^ever near. 



THE SOUTH- WIND. 

AN ODE. 

I come from away in tropics gay 

Where the wandering breezes blow, 
Where lilies of white e'er bloom in siiiht 

Of the widening river's flow. 
]\Iy pinions are high for eagle's eye 

As I speed through the boundless space 
And bless with my showers the thirsty flowers 

When they droop in their withered grace. 

The balm of my breath compels fell death 

To release from his icy hold 
The watery streams in their wintery dreams 

As they stay in their channels old. 
I ser.d the life blood to swelling bud 

On the naked and lonely bough 
And bring forth the leaves on all the trees 

Like a mystical king, I trow. 

The ni.usic of bird with gladness heard, 
III the beautiful days of spring, 



[88] 



I briiiii' from the glade of forest shade 

As I come on my airy Aving. 
And sluinheriiig hills with their frozen rills 

And their breasts of dunnest hue 
1 clothe in deep green with hand nnseen 

Ki-e 1 iiiount to the heavens blue. 

My clarion 1 l)low o'er meadows Ioav 

Like a Gabriel o'er the dead; 
And life from the cold of sluggish mold 

Hears my notes from his lowly bed. 
I sweep up the shores where ocean roars 

When its bursting tides run full; 
The clouds I upbear on my airy chair 

With their mountains of whitened wool. 

The odoi's of night in the starry light 

I waft o'er a sleeping w^orld, 
And seal up the lair of human care 

With the balm from my wings unfurled. 
I Hit on the lake in the moonbeam's wake 

When the whispering wavelets slee]) 
And i)lay on the lyre with my tuneful choir 

Where the leaves of the willow weep. 

[89] 



LEONAED AND LENOKA. 

Shone the evening star with brightness 
When the time of meeting came, 

Sat alone the lorn Lenora 

Thinking on her lover's name; 

All alone she sat and waited 

And her thoughts were e'er the same. 

Anxious then the lorn Lenora 
Oft in anguish wrung her hands : 

"Can mischance have him befallen 
On his journey o'er the sands? 

('an it be my faithful Leonard 
Dying lies in foreign lands? 

"Can that heart that beat so warmly 
All its passion now disown? 

Can his love for me be colder 
For some reason yet unknown ? 

Was it but a fleeting fancy 
Now to other maiden shown?" 

[90] 



These the tlioughts that surged within her 

As she pondered in her room, 
Listening if perchance his footsteps 

Might be heard amid the gloom. 
But ah no ! the silence lasted 

Like the silence of the tomb. 



But before her tired eyesight 
Passed a vision of her dear. 

And his voice familiar, real, 
Seemed now wafted to her ear. 

Wafted by some strange enchantment 
From the ocean wide and drear. 



''(Jh my love, my love forever I 
Oceans wide between ns roll 

And an Afric moon with beauty 
Silent glimmers on my soul, 

(xlimmers through my prison v. in(h)w 
Riding near her middle goal. 



[91 



''Hast-e thee now to greet thy lover 
Whom the prison walls confine; 

Haste thee ere his wasting body 
To earth's bosom they consign, 

Where no ray of heavenly sunlight 
Shall again upon him shine. 



'SShouldst thou say unto the keeper, 
At the iron postern gate, 

Thou hadst come to see thy Leonard 
In his sad and lone estate, 

He will sure, though grim and surly. 
Thy heart wishes kindly sate." 



Then at eve upon the billows 
Of Atlantic 's lordly stream 

Quick embarked the noble maiden 
For the object of her dream, 

Seeking with true heart devoted 
Her dear Leonard to redeem. 



[92] 



Swiftly sped the mighty vessel 
Night and day before the gale. 

Carrying on her throbbing bosom 
Lorn Lenora, fair and pale. 

And her stanncli and mighty timbers 
Left a deep and whitened trail. 



Bnt this stainieh and mighty vessel 
Never reached the farther shore: 

On the rocks she struck and fonndered 
Where the ocean eagles soar — 

Fonndered mid the mountain billows 
"Where no ])OAver conld save her more. 



This was night, and dark the billows 
By Mt. Blanco's rugged side. 

Floating there on troubled waters. 
Falling, rising with the tide, 

Was the form of lorn Lenora. 
By the morning sunbeams spied. 



[93] 



TO AX INFANT. 

Thou art a little cherub born. 

Fit type of those above ; 
Tlie radiance of a simmer morn 

(tIows in thy heart of love. 
Thy little neck so soft and white, 

So sweet to kiss behind, 
Uy silken ringlets fair bedight 

Was iie'er by links confined. 

Least taint is there of eai'thly clod 

Hpon thy little face: 
Fresh moulded by the hand of God 

It beams with heavenly grace. 
Thy dimpled arms so fair and ]'(nnid 

Defy the sculptor's art; 
Xo Grecian model ever found, 

So ]deased the hiimnii heart. 



m\ 



Xo verbal language 3^et is thine 

Thy little wants to tell, 
And yet a language clear as mine 

Can all our doubts dispell. 
The beaming of those lucid eyes 

Tell plainly what will please, 
And truly do thy scolding cries 

Reveal to us thy tease. 

And fairest of all mortal sights 

Is that of thee asleep- — 
The sleep that nature kind incites. 

So calm and sweet and deep. 
Age envies thee thy peaceful rest. 

Those low, sweet lullabies, 
That still thee on thy mother's breast 

Ere slumber on thee lies. 



[9.51 



ONCE AND FOREVER. 

A maiden I knew in the days long ago 
Who dwelt with her mother grown aged and slow, 
A spirit of sadness pervaded her mien 
And made her far older than sweet seventeen ; 
A something had slipped from her life far away 
And dnlled the fair time of her beantifnl May. 
'I'lie flowers of her garden were claiming her care 
And white was the rose that she wore in her hair. 
The jessamine faint and the I'ambler that grew 
Where beams of the morning disclosed them to view. 
Both owned the soft tonch of her gentle white hands 
For deftly she bonnd them with fine osier bands. 
The daffodils bright and narcissi that bloom. 
Where drifts of the snow were bnt recent their tomb. 
Were first to perceive in their delicate frame 
The kindly sweet presence of her when she came. 
Her step was so light on the bladelets she prest 
It seemed that she could not disturb their calm re -it. 
The pets of her garden, when drooping and lorn. 
She sprinkled with water at dawning of morn, 

[96] 



The docks and the darnels with long- ugly roots 
She straightway wonld phiek from her sweet flower- 
ing- shoots: 
The beetle and bno- and the vile ei'awlino^ worm, 
Slo ]irone to infest all her nnrselin^-s infirm, 
She never wonld crnsh in a ernel hard way 
But bore them far off to the woodlands away. 
A beinof more aentle. more charming', refined. 
Was ne'er to a garden that Eden consigned. 

One eve, when the skirts of the pale dying day. 
Were lighted Avith gold o'er the shallow still bay. 
And slowly the floAvers. with their petals of white. 
Were closing beneath the sweet kisses of night, 
A yonth. from the back of his kind dappled gray. 
Leaped down in the face of the low IcA^el ray 
And said to this maiden so fair and so tall. 
Who stood all alone by the mossy stone wall: 
"Broad acres are mine near the far upland town 
That faces the slope of the smooth Chester do\ATi ; 
A mansion of brick, whose tall Avindows are wide. 
Shows shijis as they dance on the wild ocean's tide; 
And spacious the lawn with its tall stately trees. 
So airy and cool from the mild summer breeze, 

[971 



Bedecked with the blossoms from strange foreign 

climes, 
Its beauty is rare with the varying times. 
And servants have I which now number a score, 
AVell skilled in their duty my wants to explore. 
Come thou to this palace, rich furnished and grand, 
And dwell as my queen in that beautiful land. 
I'll robe thee in silks that were woven in France 
And satins that gleam in the sun's bright glance. 
I'll love thee and hold thee with tenderest care, 
And servants shall watch o'er thy garden fair. 
Thy mother shall come an abiding guest 
And find with her daughter and son sweet rest." 

She listened in silence, then spoke in reply. 
First wiping the tear ere it fell from her eye : 
"No wishes have I thy high station to share 
Or breathe the sweet breath of the wide ocean air. 
Thy silks and thy satins and slaves so skilled 
Are dross to the heart with dear memories filled ; 
Too garish art thou in thy gay worldly pride 
To know the dear treasures that fastest abide. 

A little green mound on the long sloping hill— 
'Tis there that my Edward lies quiet and still. 

198] 



These roses that bloom with their sweetest perfume 
I grow for the urn that now stands on his tomb. 
Each morn when their petals are gemmed with the 

dew 
I bear a fresh cluster the old to renew. 
In childhood's dear morning Ave gamboled and played 
And deep in the woodlands for flowerets we strayed, 
'Neath borghs of the maple, that swayed in the wind, 
Our playhouse with garlands artistic we tw^ined. 
And sweet Avere the dreams of the future Ave had 
All painted in sunbeams untinged with the sad. 
Today 'neath the aa^IIoav, AAdiose Avide spreading shade 
Embraced the Ioav mound Avhere the soft breezes 

played, 
I laid me close doAvn on the grave of my dead 
And all to myself in Ioav accents I said : 

'Thy pledges, dear EdAvard, Avere kept till thy 

death ; 
Of me Avere the Avords of thy last failing breath. 
My heart it Avert Avith thee, the day that thou died, 
And fondly abideth this day by thy side. 
Dear memories still cling to the scenes of the past 
Like leaA^es of the trees that the srramer outlast; 
No more will I love till my EdAA^ard I see, 
'Till Eeath through its portal shall join me AA^th 

thee.' " 



[991 



HOME FROM BATTLE. 

Encamped on two neigliboring hill-tops, 
The armies are resting to-night ; 

Are resting in wait for the struggle, 

When morning shall break with its light. 

Between them is flowing a river, 
All peaceful and crystal its flood ; 

Its eddies as bright as pure silver 
To-morrow shall ripple with blood. 

To-morrow I die in the battle, 

Far off from my kindred and love ; 

Far oft' from the Nellie who loves me, 
And prays to the Father above. 

Mid thunders that roll for destruction, 
And shot with the redness of hell, 

IMy spirit will wing its departure 

For realms that no prophet can tell. 

[1001 



Aud when the fierce turmoil of battle 
Shall cease with the fading of day, 

My corse from the field of the conflict 
Some strangers will carry away. 

They will wend by the cottage of Nellie, 
Where oft I have lingered so fond; 

And kissed with sweet words at departing, 
The lips of my beantifnl blonde. 

They will come to the home of my childhood. 

Sechided by sycamores tall; 
Where father and mother and Roland. 

Unknowing are waiting my call. 

Home, home, shall I be by the evening, 
]\Iy lonely wild roamings all o'er; 

Sweet rest shall be mine then forever, 
Beneath my beloved sycamore. 



101 



THE RIVEE OF TIME. 

Oh a wonderful stream is the river of time 

Whose current is bearing us on ! 
No stay in the sweep of its marvelous tide, 

No pause for the wayworn and wan. 

The wells of this wonderful river of time 

Are hid in the haze of the years; 
On mountaiDS upreared ere the birth of the sun 

Its mystical fountain appears. 

Its streamings grow deeper and deeper anon 

As widening they roll to the sea; 
Where leaving its narrow^s forever behind 

It bosoms forth boundless and free. 

A glint and a gleam from this wonderful stream 

And done is orr day and we die; 
With its swift vanished sheen that soon fadeth away 

Our pleasures and happiness fly. 

We float like the leaves of a bright autumn day 

Ere nearing Eternity's sea; 
And feel as we leave our short tortuous course 

How glorious the deathless to be. 

[1021 



KOCKY RIVER. 

() Rocky, sweet Rocky, thou beautiful stream! 

Thine eddies are crystal, thy ripples like gold, 
And paved with w^hite pebbles as coral thy bed, 

Not half of th}^ loveliness ever was told. 

]My childhood, dear river, was spent by thy banks. 
And sweet are the dreams that now tell of the past ; 

Companions were we in the long summer hours 
When wading thy waters all pleasures surpassed. 

And resting from toil in the shade of thine elms 
Thy soft gentle murmurs would lull me to sleep; 

The charm of thy waters my duty o'ercame 

And shepherdless wandered the flocks of my sheep. 

On hills, where the dews from the clear heavens fall, 
The springs of thy fountains gush silver and pure. 

Roll backward, dear river, roll backward to-night. 
The scenes of thy rising fond memories allure. 

My Nellie played with me upon thy green meads. 
And smiling the lilies outreaching she gave. 

Thy smooth gliding bosom oft mirrored her face, 
Flow softly, dear river, beside her green grave. 

Eternal, dear river, the flow of thy tide. 

More lovely thy current ne'er glided before. 

Roll on, beloved river, for ages to come, 
T di*ead not the summons to sleep on thy shore. 



THE MILLER'S DAUGHTER. 

A tale I sing of lovely Nell, 

The miller's only daughter, 
Who dwelt below the Springs of Dove, 

Near Rocky River's Avater. 

A sweeter child there never played 

Mid snows of bleak December; 
The radiant smile that lit her face 

I ever shall remember. 

The spreading elms and sycamores 
Their branches wide extended. 

And o'er the mill with lichened roof 
Their waving arches bended. 

The farmers came from far and near 
And brought their corn for grinding; 

They told their views and shared their jngs, 
A pleasure always finding. 



104] 



The currents of the human heart 
Flowed warmer then and deeper; 

In hours of trial and grief and pain 
Each was his brother's keeper. 

^ly recollection's fondest dreams 
Are those of boyhood's making; 

They warm afresh within my heart 
My passion's first awaking. 

I nothing cared for views or jugs, 
I loved the miller's daughter, 

And Avaded with her in the stream 
Of pebbled Eocky's water. 

The crumbling mill has tumbled down, 
The wheel has ceased its going; 

The patter of sweet Nellie's feet 
Is fainter, fainter growing. 

But still upon that streamlet's tide, 
Whose banks are dim with distance. 

There floateth toward the silent seas 
A part of my existence. 

[1051 



Kroin childhood's day to maidenhood 
Serene she grew and stately; 

Her mien revealed a pride and scorn 
Whose coming pained me greatly. 

With youth's alert and furtive eye 

I stole my secret glances; 
I marked the maiden's blooming cheeks 

I saw her dreamy trances. 

Long years ago beside the pond 
A narrow path was running; 

And minnows by its grassy edge 

Their gleaming sides were sunning. 

And once by me at eventide 

This silent, lovely maiden 
Walked with a heart I could not read, 

Though mine was heavy-laden. 

We watched the sun go down to rest, 

The gentle breezes hushing. 
The waters of the mill-race then 

Seemed louder, clearer rushing. 

[106] 



The i^lacid beams of rising moon 

Lit waters silvery lying; 
And winds that played so hard by day 

Aweary then were dying. 

The feathery boughs of willow trees 
Had ceased their graceful swaying ; 

But audibly their melodies 
To me were still conveying. 

Tlie myriad stars with glittering eyes. 
The azure sky o 'erspreading, 

Lit far the depths of crystal pond 
Their diamond beauty shedding. 

All nature seemed that very night 

To be herself outdoing; 
The radiant hope my very soul 

With courage was enduing. 

I spoke beneath the silent elms, 

Where moonbeams soft were straying. 

The love long since my fondest dream. 
My courage weak dismaying. 

[107] 



But stately walked the silent maid, 
Her heart was all unfeeling, 

Her mien was like the stony Sphinx, 
Poor slaves before it kneeling. 

She opened not her sealed lips 
Till at her door we parted; 

And then there fell the saddening word 
That made me broken-hearted. 

She wedded soon a youth of wealth 
And crossed the mighty ocean; 

She left me here to drain the dregs 
Of my most bitter potion. 

And like the gloom of rayless night, 

In winter's chilly weather, 
Are thoughts of her to him who walks 

Life's lone and cheerless heather. 



[108] 



MY MOTHER. 

Two fleeting' months have scarcely passed. 
Since sable clouds my sky o'ercast 
And made my view of thee the last, 

My mother. 

Each year I saw thee feebler groAv 

And viewed with grief the falling snow 

Curtail for me thy days below, 

My mother. 

It pained me when I sa^^- thee ill. 
I tried my duty to fulfill. 
And human wish thee with me still, 

My mother. 

Remembrance of thy visits made 
By night to see me warmly laid. 
E'en now my manhood tears persuade, 

My mother. 

[109] 



When Slumber's wand with graceful sweep 
Had long my spirt waved to sleep 
Thy needle still its watch would keep, 

My mother. 

My clothes at school so often torn 
By thoughtless mate or ugly thorn 
Were mended neat ere coming morn, 

My mother. 

Thou nursed me on my bed of pain 
When fever burned my wildered brain, 
And watched me slow my strength regain, 

]\Iy mother. 

Thou journeyed with me in the night. 
When speeding from or toward thy sight. 
And sleepless rose at morning light, 

My mother. 

Thou faithful sent those letters kind. 
Whose welcome seal sweet love confined 
And all my toil and care repined. 

My mother. 

ino| 



The robin's voice so sweet to thee, 
When floating from the budding tree. 
Awakes a sadness now in me, 

My mother. 

Thy silvery locks, once wavy brown. 
Still hanging thick in ringlets down. 
Adorned thee with a fitting crown. 

My mother. 

The beauteous flowers beside thy door 
Were emblems of the sinless shore. 
Thy home is there forevermore. 

My mother. 

And dost thou with thy radiant ej^es 
Behold me from the smiling skies 
Where life our mortal death defies.^ 

My mother. 

Ah 3^es. I know those pages fair. 
Where kindly deeds recorded are. 
Have won for thee the angel's care, 

Mv mother. 



Ill 



ETHEL WENTWORTH. 

The purple waves of ebbing day 

Gleamed brioht on Shannon hill; 
And gently with the levelling ray 

Drew on the evening still. 
The robin songht his budding height 
And softly said his sweet good-night. 

The yellow daffodil 
That first bedechs the southern steep 
Its dew-kissed petals closed in sleep. 

Such time it was my Ethel took 

Her last farewell of me ; 
And perish shall her lingering look 

When tides shall fail the sea. 
No more shall notes of laughing spring 
To me their joyous tokens bring. 

With tearful eye I see 
How ugly milfoil thick o'er grows 
The bed where bloomed her summer rose. 

[112] 



On Shannon hill the maple trees 

In graceful grandeur grow; 
The chestnuts in the summer breeze 

Their feathery beauty sow. 
When frosts of autumn seared the ground 
I shook the opening hickories down. 

In gown of calico 
My Ethel caught them when they fell, 
Her laughter ringing through the dell. 

O'er Shannon hill the cloudlets sail 

In beauteous liveries dight; 
And purest breezes there exhale 

Their balms that rest invite. 
The distant vespers softly knoll 
Sweet invitations to the soul. 

But pitiless the blight 
That fell on dank November's air! 
It reft me ere I was aware. 

On Shannon hill the wild grape vines 

Their frosty fruitage yield; 
The curling tendril intertwines 

The boughs our seat concealed; 

[113] 



And evening zephyrs only blow 
Sweet memories of the long ago. 

The seasons then revealed 
A. charm their changing raiment wore — 
But faded this forevermore. 

I wonder if she thinks of flowers 

Where spring time never dies; 
Where through the long and gladsome hours 

The light unfading lies. 
I wonder if to Shannon hill 
Her happy memory journeys still ; 

If ever now she sighs 
To sit where lichened beeches lean 
Above our lovely bower of green. 



11141 



IN IMEMORY OF 
MRS. THEODORE H. JOHNSTON. 



Where the breezes blow soft from the ocean, 
And the flowers never wither or die, 

Calmly rests she from pain and commotion. 
And no tear will e'er fall from her eye. 

Her sweet spirit escaped from its anguish, 
Like a bird from its prison set free. 

Hovers low o'er the two Avho now languish 
All alone in their home by the sea. 



115] 



THE UNKNOWN SEA. 

I walk upon the borderland 

Of climes unknown to me ; 
And seem to grope npon the strand 

Of an eternal sea. 

^J'he breath I draw within an hour 

May savor of its brine ; 
And in some dell of island bower 

Mysterions life be mine. 

I hear the far off wavering swells 

Of dying melodies; 
They faint and fail like silvery bells 

Where moan the .snllen seas. 

And here where mists and fogs o'erwhelm 

No voice distinct I hear; 
I cannot view that spirit realm 

AVhieh by me lies so near. 

I cannot follow with mine eyes 

The lessening shallop sail; 
But hope within me yearns and sighs 

To raise the curtaining veil, 

[116] 



VACATION DAYS. 

(ROCKY RIVER.) 

Thou singest still 'neath bending skies 

The strains of long ago; 
The strains that moved my shimb'ring lyre 

To soft vibrations slow. 

Thou flowest through thy leafy woods 

And by thy fields of corn; 
Thou singest to the moon and stars 

Till smiles the radiant morn. 

Thou glidest round thy emerald isles 

AVhere peace unbroken reigns; 
Where waving ferns and rushes green 

xVre veeries' loved domains. 

But mine the lot of heated streets 
"Where throbs the pulse of life ; 

And mine the restless marts of trade 
With greed repulsive rife. 

[117] 



A block of brick my prison cell, 
High tow'rino- toward the sky: 

And nought but walls with smoke begrimed 
And ledgers greet mine eye. 

An atomsphere of lies I breathe 

With cackling* human geese; 
Prom poisonous flies and market cries 

My spirit yearns release. 

O river dear whose grassy banks 

With stately elms are lined! 
How blissful e'en the thought of thee 

To me with care confined ! 

Oh for one quiet hour of rest 

In <challop on thy tide ! 
I'd row with listless oar among 

The lilies on thy side. 

I'd pause hard by the willow clumps 
Where dance thy silvery waves ; 

And seek beneath their changing shade 
The rest my spirit craves. 



1181 



rd sit and watcli the happy kme 
That haunt thy summer pools ; 

I'd listen to the kill-deer's strains 
Remote from city fools. 

And thon. river, then shonldst take 

My rural minstrelsy 
And sing it to the listening hills 

While flowing toward the sea. 



[119] 



OHIO. 

A SONG. 

The hills of Ohio are blue 
And fair in the sunlight they lie ; 
No trees with more beauty e'er grew 
Than sway on the hills of Ohio. 

The oaks of Ohio are grand, 
The haunts of Dodona of old; 
Their branches the tempests Avithstand, 
A type of the strength of Ohio. 

The vales of Ohio are dear, 
Her streamlets are pure as the dew ; 
No vista of dreamland the peer 
Of meads with their rills in Ohio. 

The maids of Ohio are fair, 
Their voices the songs of the morn; 
And none Avith sweet Psyche compare 
As maids in delightful Ohio. 

[120] 



The men of Ohio are brave. 
AYheii wikl blew the bugles of war 
And heroes dashed forward to save 
The bravest rode in from Ohio. 

The men of Ohio are proud. 
Uer virtues they carry abroad; 
Their boasting is heartfelt and loud 
Of birth in beloved Ohio. 

Their mettle has often been tried 
On field and in court and in hall, 
AikI none are so trusted to guide 
As Pres 'dents Avho hail from Ohio. 

The homes of Ohio are sweet 

And boAvered mid the clumps of the rose 

Their precincts a happy retreat 

For men with their wives in Ohio. 



121] 



SCHOOL DAYS. 

Troops of youths and laughing maidens, 

Coming going, day by day, 
(Growing older, growing wiser, 

ITappy company are they. 

Blessed days when Fancy Aveaveth 
All her dreams Avith golden hues: 

AVhen the tints of Avaking morning 
Cild the future's distant ahcaa^s. 

(xladsome days of tAAdning myrtle. 
Days of blossom and of vine, 

Trophies dearer far than laurels. 
Which the broAA^ of fame enshrine. 

Up the stairs and doA\^n together 
Often trip the maidens fair; 

Meeting there the furtive glances 
Which their destinv declare. 



122] 



Uuds are lliey whose fragrant sweetness 

Never Avasted on the air; 
Never felt the tainted breezes 

From a fetid world of care. 

Never saw the clouds when ashen. 

Never gazed on sober skies; 
Always breathing blossom odors 

With the sunshine in their eyes. 

Eyes that vent the pure emotions 

Of the spirit's holy shrine 
Ne'er again shall beam so sweetly 

AVith their fires of love divine. 

All before them lies the ocean. 

With its reefs and shoals unknown. 

Where the mighty billows tumble 
With their weird and angry moan. 

Friendship's ties must loose their fastenings, 

For each shallop starts alone : 
By itself o'er troubled waters 

Each by different breezes blown. 



123] 



Stand they yet in happy clusters, 
On life's golden morning strand, 

Looking off with eyes expectant 
Toward some dim and hazy land. 

Who so cruel as to haunt them 
By his tales of harrowing care? 

Who would dull their hopeful prospect 
Or their present joy impair? 

Who would bid these buds of May time 
Haste their petals to unfold? 

Soon enough their bloom will perish 
If our warnings we withhold. 

Oh the freshness and the beauty 
Of these happy morning years ! 

Vain our wish they'd last forever, 
Free from sadness, free from tears. 

Though we fain would bid them tarry, 

Tarry longer but a day. 
They ne'er harken to our bidding, 

But the quicker speed away. 

[124] 



Not alone, earnest maiden ! 

"Was thy heart for knowledge meant 
Hope and faith with love and duty 

In true woman must be blent. 

Know. girl so sweet in promise. 
In the swiftly coming years, 

"Woman's tender, fond affection 
Heaven's name to earth endears. 

Know, youth, thy swelling muscles 
Were not meant for feats alone : 

These should ease the heavy laden 
And the evil help dethrone. 

Braver he by far in courage 

WTio can bear the scoffing sneer; 

Than he on the field of battle 
Who can face the cannon near. 

These the days of glorious seed time 
And the harvest bye and bye; 

Sow within thy fertile bosom 
What shall blossom in the sky. 

[125] 



THE FUNERAL OF AN OLD LADY. 

When January skies were cold 

And frost was in the air, 
A little ch\irch with sobs was filled 

And sighs that spoke despair. 
A mother, with her whitened hair, 

Had ceased her years of care. 

An aged man with saintly mien 
Addressed the mourning throng; 

The words that passed his holy lips 
Have been remembered long, 

His thoughts with confidence were strong. 
His voice was sweet like song. 

"Why weep ye here my kindly friends? 

Why wail ye for the dead? 
Onr childhood, youth, and manly prime 

Successive bring no dread; 
And age and death with these are wed 

In one continuous thread. 

*'Most beautiful the clouds appear 
When golden sunsets die ; 

J126] 



Most costly robes the mountain wears 

'Neath autumn's twilight sky, 
And Hope on highest wings will fly . 

Before the closing eye. 

''Ye sorrow not with visage sad 

To see the garnered grain ; 
Ye weep not when the bending boughs 

Their ripened loads sustain. 
And Nature's kindly laws ordain 

That death is but a gain. 

"Her life with noble deeds was filled. 

Her children call her blest ; 
The years that Heaven allots to man 

Her weakened powers attest. 
'Tis wrong to wail with heaving breast 

Because she lies at rest. 

' ' Her eyes were dim, the way was long. 

She lonely was and worn, 
Twas time that she should go to rest 

To rise in sweeter morn ; 
'Twas time that she should cease to mourn 

The nestlings from her torn." 
[1271 



O GOOLINCt BEEEZE ! 

A SONG 

cooling breeze from seas of bine, 

How wondrons are thy healing powers! 

Your sweetened breath yon snrely drew 
From island beds of blooming flowers, 

Oh tell me how thy grace to woo 
And I will be thy lover true ! 

O cooling breeze! Pray tell me where 
The cradle of thy birthplace lies. 

Hath Glancns built his watery lair 
Beneath the same bright summer skies? 

Do bhie-eyed nymphs with golden hair 
Breathe there the same sweet morning air? 

Oh tell me of thy winged flight 
Across the wide and restless deep ! 

What said those waves with crests of white 
By coral isles that fell asleep? 



[128] 



What spoke the moon that smiled so bright 
When fair she rode with thee last night ? 

O cooling breeze ! thy tuneful lyre 
The sapless boughs of ocean are; 

Soft melodies thy hidden choir 
Sings audibly to moon and star; 

Thy skyey wings do never tire 

Of wafting clouds in plumed attire. 

Oh tell me where thy bound appears 

By tropic sea or snowy pole ! 
Can age of thine be told by years 

Or lasts it like the human soul? 
Does music strike thine airy ears 

That swells from distant shining spheres? 



[129] 



A TEAR. 

How clever the smile with its charm to beguile 

And cover the false with veneer! 
But the depths of the heart with the aid of no art 

Are revealed by the flow of a tear. 

A blnsh on the cheek will the feelings bespeak 

That lie by the surface too near; 
But the love that is deep and abiding will keep 

Welleth up from below in a tear. 

The warrior will stand nnblenched on the sand 
When death with the cannon is near; 

But a thought of his home on the far mellow loam 
Will fill his stern eye with a tear. 

The sailor will ride on the wild ocean tide 
Mid shoals that are treach'rous and drear; 

He will watch with his eye the stars in the sky 
And his sisht be undimmed with a tear. 



[130] 



But his baby at rest in his sweet little nest, 

Far away o'er the turbulent mere, 
As the vision will rise when his slumber deep lies. 

Oft brims his brave eye with a tear. 

The dimples and wiles and the bright laughing smiles. 

That perch on the face of his dear, 
Are fair for the eye of a lover to spy. 

Though he waiteth in vain for a tear. 

And blest is the thought to my memory brought. 
In these days that are olden and sear. 

How Amy repaid the fond suit that I made 
And rewarded my love with a tear. 

When Death's mystic seal on my spirit I feel 
And slumb'ring I'm borne on the bier, 

Oh raise not a stone where I lie all alone. 
But moisten the turf with a tear ! 



ti3i: 



SLEEP. 



A SONNET. 



O blissful sleep ! thou balm of earthly care, 

That fallest like a niautle softly down 

From Heaven and dost with Slumber's web ensnare 

The soul and top the day with fitting crown, 

Tiefreshmout glides adown thy dewy way 

And Healing- rideth on thy silken folds; 

Day's hard oppression owns thy restful sway 

And human pain in thee its boon beholds. 

To men sole bringer thou of sweetest dreams 

Which Fancy weaveth with her golden thread. 

On peaceful banks of fair Elysium streams 

At eve thon spreadest weary Labor's bed 

And fond remembrances of scenes before 

Ketnrn to hallow hours that are no more. 



[132] 



DEATH. 

A SONNET. 

Behold how still and quiet is her rest ! 

Less deep the wrinkles seam her comely face, 

A calm rests gently on her peaceful breast 

And Beauty's lingering charms her features grace. 

Death ! Forever thou hast closed an eye 

That beamed with love but knew not cruel hate, 

That sought, in all, the good to magnify, 

And looked with piety on Misfortune's state. 

Thy stiff and heavy finger coldly lies 

Upon those silent lips that spoke so sweet 

Soft answers in response to human cries 

And made her sphere a place for angels meet. 

Thy dull seal too has stopped for aye the ear 

Attuned by heaven low melodies to hear. 



[133] 



THE VIOLET. 

A SONNET. 

violet in thy mossy dell 

So pleasing to the eye ! 
How canst thou here contented dwell 

When thon so soon must die? 
The pearly jewels on thy face 

Will vanish with the morn; 
The softened tints thj^ beauty grace 

Shall leave thee soon forlorn. 
' ' Oh Sir ! I know my hour is brief, 

I know I soon must die; 
But fragrance from my downy leaf 

First rises to the sky. 
My life a tribute glad I pay 

To make a sweeter day." 



[1341 



JUNIATA. 

A BALLAD. 

Where the blue-domed Alleghanies 
In their silence talk with God, 

There the wells of Juniata 
Bubble from the mountain sod. 

Clear as a crystal flow its waters 
By the dews of heaven fed; 

White as ivory are the pebbles 
Of its airy cradle bed. 

One could stay its gentle current 
By the placing of his hand ; 

He could drown its tiny volume 
With a spade of yellow sand. 

'Twas an old familiar legend, 
In the ancient Indian lore, 

That the chiefs of twenty nations, 
For the love to it they bore, 

[135] 



Tried to stay its silvery eddies, 
Tried to keep them pure and white, 

Tried to keep it from descending 
From the mountain's azure height. 

Built a dam with stone and hemlock 
Of the greatest strength and skill. 

Tried to stay the babbling waters 
And to make them smooth and still. 

Idle grew sweet Juniata, 

Like a petted haughty child. 

Oft in sadness deep repining 
Longed to leave her mountain wild. 

Longed to leave the lonely woodland 
With its robe of heath and thorn; 

Longed to see the verdant valleys 
In their misty shrouds at morn. 

Down within the the crowded city 

Of Duncannon by the sea, 
Dwelt a youth whose name was Duty 

And for goodness famed was he. 

[136] 



Once he spied sweet Juniata 

In the month of rosy June ; 
Spied the nymph so fair and fa^\'Ti-like 

In the radiance of the moon. 

Deep enamored of her beauty 
He addressed her listening ear; 

Softly spoke his tender fancies 
Wlien no other ear could Jiear. 

Wooed the nymph with glancing tresses 
'Neath the wand'ring ivy vine; 

Watched the silvery clouds go floating 
Dow^u the moon-lit glens of pine. 

Felt the dewy splendor falling 

From the depths of cloudless skies; 

Listened to the whispering laurels 
Mid the bliss of low replies. 

Felt tlie stillness and the beauty 

Of the quiet even-fall; 
Listened to the drowsy vespers 

Of the beetle's droning call. 

[137] 



Told her love was of the valley, 
That the mountain top was stone; 

That below was toil and travail 
And that Duty, dwelt alone. 

There were children crying, "Water!' 

In the stifling city air; 
There were fields all dry and fallow 

Growing up to weed and tare. 

Would she leave the haunt of Beauty 
To the useless kite and crow; 

Go with one who loved her dearly 
To the pain and strife below. 

Cease to breathe the stunted roses 
On the sterile peaks above; 

Cease to bask 'mong water-lilies 
With a coldness dead to love. 

Downward at this call of Duty 
She descended to the shore. 

It was birth to Juniata 

For her life was dead before. 

Down through fields of rich alluvium 
Now her helpful waters flee; 
[138] 



And she leaves a trail of blessinsrs 
From the monntain to the sea. 

Leaves her crystal jettiiig- fountains 
In the city's smoke and o^rime: 

Gives her draufrhts of sweet refreshment 
To the toilers in its slime. 

Leaves the trees and g^ardens growing 
In their robes of bearteors green : 

Showeth Avhat is pure and lovely 
To the eyes of base and mean. 

Cools the parching tongue of fever 
On the burning bed of pain ; 

Shares her gifts, in ways impartial, 
With the righteous and profane. 

Downward, downward, lovely maiden, 
From the tinsel heights of pride. 

Make a grassy way through deserts 
To the ocean's rolling tide. 

This the Holy IMaster meaneth. 

By the saying long ago, 
We must lose our life to find it 

In the mystic realm below. 

[139] 



THE FORSAKEN GARDEN. 

A SONNET. 

The garden is lonely deserted and drear 
And loveless the asters are drooping their heads ; 
Long gone are the roses that bloomed with the year 
And scentless the breezes that play o'er their beds. 
Wind-shaken and leafless the boughs of the thorn 
And hushed in deep silence their voices of song; 
The whispers of lovers that lasted till morn 
Like leaflets and blossoms to summer belong. 
The dcAv-drops that sparkled like gems in the sun, 
And were sipped by the bees when the morning was 

young, 
Have passed with the bladelets by Winter undoue 
And lie in the hollows unnoticed, unsung. 
And she, the sweet mistress who trimmed the green 

sod, 
Now sleeps with her roses beneath the cold clod. 



[140] 



DEC t£ VSO^- 



